


Last Dance

by princen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Feelings, Fluff, Gen, M/M, short and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-23
Updated: 2014-04-23
Packaged: 2018-01-20 11:49:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1509434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princen/pseuds/princen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heaven's plans have come together. Sam belongs to Lucifer, Adam to Michael, and the showdown is ready to begin. The night before, Dean finds himself at a motel outside of Lawrence, Kansas, drinking with a friend who gets a lesson in slow dancing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Dance

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by an imagineyourotp post about slow dancing and singing the words. Link to song mentioned, "Right Here Waiting": https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z2SwgfKBnH0

Dean just wanted a strong drink and some good music. The radio on the desk of the motel room had been turned on low to a classic rock station. It was four in the morning on the day of the big showdown. Heaven or Hell, who won didn’t matter. Both sides had him in a chokehold. He just wanted it to be over. He was perched on the end of the desk, tapping out a rhythm to an Aerosmith song with his free hand on the desk. Looking into the caramel pool in his glass, he saw his fear and downed it, sharply tossing his head back. As he put the glass down beside him, he looked at the ex-angel nursing his own drink a step away. Castiel’s hardened gaze at the plain motel room wall really gave away his age. Dean almost forgot this youthful man held an entity older than time, itself. Restless and tense, Dean sighed, which broke Castiel’s trance. Dean stood from his seat on the desk and stretched. Between stretches, he noticed Cas had moved.

He stood close. He always stood too close. There was a question, about a million things to say written on Castiel’s face. His expression would harden and soften as he collected his thoughts. Dean waited; it was all he could do. But Castiel said nothing. It was quiet and they looked at each other. The low murmur of the radio switched tunes and it was something slow and something bittersweet and something that made Dean feel a bit more right when everything was going wrong. Dean straightened himself and gestured for Cas to come closer. 

“C’mere.”

Cas, confused but willing, expected something along the lines of a hug. He leaned, arms outstretched, eyes continuously on Dean’s. When Dean draped his arms around Castiel’s neck, Cas realized this was something else.

“Hands on my waist, Cas.”

Unsure, Castiel gently hovered his hands away from Dean’s body. Dean still had his eyes fixed on Castiel’s face. Cas, becoming more uncomfortable, looked down. 

“I don’t…Is this a hug?”

Dean snorted, “No, bud, this is a dance. It’s your first slow dance. Thought you could enjoy something about being human tonight.”

“Is tonight really the night for dancing, Dean?” He sounded exasperated. Cas started to lower his arms to his side. Dean leaned his head against the side of Castiel’s.

“Don’t. Just. Shut up for a minute, will ya? Enjoy the moment.” Dean shut his eyes and pretended that slow dancing with a falling angel was completely rational. Given the situation, rational didn’t have a meaning anymore. Not when the world had plunged into chaos.

Hesitant, Cas replaced his hands more firmly on Deans waist. Dean started to rock them side to side in time to the sappy 80’s song. Dean started to hum along and the low sound was calming. Castiel relaxed into Dean. He smelled like alcohol and cheap cologne, but Cas drank it all in. He understood Dean in this moment, even though despite having put this man together himself, he was always a stubborn human puzzle. They were both on edge right now. Everything was at stake and Cas knew this was the only way Dean coped; by having someone by him. Deep in his thoughts, Cas was pleased to know Dean had chosen him over his tendency to seek out sexual exploits. 

Dean’s eyes were closed tight and he focused only on the present. He listened to the words Richard Marx was crooning float out of the radio; he inhaled and secretly liked the way Castiel still smelled like rich earth and fresh rain even though he was quickly losing his wings. Whether he liked holding on to Cas like this, whether it was the hot breath Cas was blowing onto his neck that was making his insides flutter, whether they were going to die tomorrow, or that his brother would be lost for good, that could all be worried about later. 

Dean’s humming evolved into just above a whisper as he sang the last few lines of the song. “ _Wherever you go/Whatever you do/I will be right here waiting for you/Whatever it takes/Or how my heart breaks/I will be right here waiting for you._ ” The song was drawing to a close until something a bit faster came blaring out of the tinny old speakers. Dean stopped their rocking and pulled away a little too fast. Castiel brought his arms back to his sides and looked at the floor.

The soft voice Dean has used before was replaced with his usual cheeky grin and brash attitude. “That wasn’t bad for your first dance, huh? Should’ve probably started you out on baby steps anyway, instead of, y’know, throwing you into the lion’s den that time. Then someday you’ll be a real boy.” With a flash of white teeth, Dean clapped a hand on Cas’s shoulder, still warm from where he was leaning. “I’ll see you tomorrow buddy.”

“Dean. About tomorrow-“

“G’night, Cas.” Dean picked up the bottle of whiskey and headed outside to the impala. He left Cas standing in the room, suddenly cold from the loss of contact, and ever mystified by this human.  
Cas closed his eyes and pulled on the fishing-wire thin line of Grace that was left in his vessel. He begged his absent father that they would see tomorrow through. Judgment Day was upon them. This was their final hour, and Castiel spent it wrapped in the memory of his first, and presumably, last, dance.

**Author's Note:**

> Ayyyy first destiel fic instead of writing an essay. You have no idea how many 80's love songs I went through to pick this one. It was too hard to choose tbh. Tell me what you think.


End file.
